


Clark Kent and Lex Luthor: Cracker Barrel Arsonists

by crocodilepatronus



Category: DC Comics, Superman (Comics), Superman - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, cracker barrel - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-18
Updated: 2017-03-18
Packaged: 2018-10-06 21:28:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10344936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crocodilepatronus/pseuds/crocodilepatronus
Summary: date a boy who was the accomplice in your cracker barrel arson charge.





	

**Author's Note:**

> based on Lex and Clark from Superman Birthright.

Clark Kent hated Cracker Barrel. It was a disengenuous parody of the rural comfort he’d been surrounded by his whole life. Even the smell of the overprocessed, fake ‘home made’ food made him feel slightly nauseous. But as much as Cracker Barrel made Clark uncomfortable, he was sure he couldn’t hate it as much as Lex did.

Neither of them had had any intention of going there. Clark had gotten his license only a few months previously and he still had to beg and plead and do extra chores to get permission to borrow his Pa’s truck for the weekend.

 Lex had a sports car and always complained that the truck smelled like cow shit and went too slow. However, he seemed to enjoy it when Clark drove him around- usually aimlessly. They’d drive as far as they could away from Smallville as they could get away with before they wouldn’t be able to get back before midnight.

Another advantage of the truck was that Clark’s telescope couldn’t fit in the back of Lex’s car and sometimes they took it with them- stop wherever they found themselves after sunset and see if the stars looked different there than they did from Clark’s backyard.…

But this time the usually sturdy, loyal, Ford pickup had betrayed them. Smoke had started pouring from the engine on the highway. The closest rest stop had been a Cracker Barrel. They’d barely even made it there- Clark was afraid the whole thing was going to catch on fire.

 

Lex insisted that he could fix an engine as primitive as the old Ford using a paperclip and a roll of duct tape. But he also admitted that he had neither of those items on his person at the moment.

It was unavoidable. They had to go inside the Cracker Barrel.

 

A country song was playing softly in the gift shop. Clark could see Lex taking it all in- the kitsch decorations, the baskets hanging from the ceilings, the 4 foot tall display of different flavors of fudge. He turned slowly and looked at Clark, stony faced.

 

“Is this… hell? Am I in hell?”

“Yeah. Something like that.” Clark said. “We should see if we can use their telephone.”

Lex snapped out of his awe to wrinkle up his nose at Clark.

“ ‘Telephone’ ?” Lex asked if he’d never heard the word before. “You’re not planning on getting the truck TOWED are you? I thought we were only here to get materials for ME to fix it.”

 “I don’t think they sell carburetors in this gift shop, Lex.”

 “Well if I just had a blow torch I could-“

“I don’t think you need to finish that sentence.”

 

Lex opened his mouth to continue arguing but Clark was already walking toward the front desk and Lex fell back behind him, crossing his arms over his chest in a sulk.

 

“Hello, ma’am.” Clark said forcing a smile to the sweet looking old grandma who was behind the front desk. “Our car broke down, I was wondering if we could use your phone?”

 

“Of course, young man, the phone is-“ she paused, frowning a bit and looking over Clark’s shoulder. “…. does your friend there need something…?”

Clark turned around.

Lex was shuffling around, leering over his own shoulder like a shoplifter, occassionally picking objects up off the shelf, examining them suspiciously, then putting them back. 

“….No, he’s just…” Clark began to explain but felt too exhausted mid sentence and just let it trail off. Lex seemed to have noticed he had eyes on him and straightened up, walking over to the desk and putting on his most charming smile.

“We won’t be needing the phone. But do you have toolbox that we could use?” he asked.

 

She looked between the two of them with suspicion for a long moment but nodded.

“It’s in the storage closet.” she stood up and walked across the room to a closet door, occasionally looking back at them as if worried they’d do something when her back was turned. She returned with a large, metal, red box and set it on the counter with a loud thunk and some visible effort.

 

“I’m not sure this will have everything you need to fix a _**car**_ , young man. What did you say was wrong with it, anyway?” she asked, still looking a bit wary.

“As long as there’s a philip’s head and a wrench, it will suffice.” Lex drawled. His eyes lighted on a cardboard box that had been tucked away behind the counter, a power cord hanging out of one end. “What’s that?”

“Oh, just an air conditioner we haven’t put into storage yet.”

 The smile that curled across Lex’s mouth was nearly wicked. He took a checkbook from his jacket pocket and quickly scribbled out a number on it that made the poor old cashier gasp and handed it to her. “I’ll take the air conditioner too.”

 

Clark held the toolbox and the box with the air conditioner under one arm and followed Lex around as he continued to browse through the gift shop shelves with a phrenetic, determined, energy. He picked up an alarm clock, twisted off the back and peered at the wiring inside.

 

Lex glanced over at Clark. “This place is awful. The entire chain should be burnt to the ground.”

 “That’s a little-“

 “They’re capitalizing on the small town hick aesthetic cultivated by people like your hard working parents. You should hate this more than anyone.”

Clark ignored the ‘hick aesthetic’ comment and shrugged one shoulder. “Well, sure, but-“

 “ ‘well, sure’ “ Lex immediately mimicked in a mocking tone. “That mild mannered, easy going, attitude is nothing but cowardly if you’re just going to let opportunities to correct injustice pass you by without doing a thing about it.” he waved his hand around for emphasis. 

 Clark smirked. “Hey- the meek will inherit the earth, right?”

 

Lex rolled his eyes and abandoned the conversation, going back to the front desk to pay for a novelty alarm clock shaped like a rooster, a zippo lighter, and a rubber band ball.

 

Clark insisted that he be the one to pry off the hood of the truck. It creaked open with a huge flume of grey smoke which Clark waved away with his arm. Lex was sitting cross legged on the ground, ripping apart the air conditioner and yanking the innards out as gleefully as a kid opens a present on christmas morning.

 

Clark leaned against the side of the truck, cocking his head to one side to watch him.

“Gee, Lex, you really think you can fix the engine with just this junk…?”

Lex scoffed. “I could rebuild this entire car from scratch in my sleep.”

 

Lex always looked most at ease to Clark when he was tinkering with something or studying something. When he was standing idle, it was always obvious that his brain was practically overheating with no outlet- the way he scowled, eyes flicking around and curling his shoulders forward protectively as if there was too much information, not enough focus, and it was an assault on him.

When he could focus, that’s when he was in his element and there was something nearly graceful about his efficiency. Set to a task, his slender hands could unravel or put together any machine with surreal accuracy, write out mathematic equations at high speed, fly across any set of complicated buttons and switches with precision.

Even Clark at super speed and super senses was sure he could never do some of the things Lex could make look so easy.

 

Lex’s eyes scanned over the damaged engine, tapping his chin with the end of the wrench he was holding.

“Hey” Clark said, “Are you going to need gloves? To touch the engine I mean? It was pretty hot when I opened it up.”

Lex was focused on the task at hand now and gave a slightly annoyed sidelong look to Clark for interrupting his thought process. “Your hands look fine and you touched it.”

Clark hid his wince. “Yeah, I’m going to go get some gloves. Just hold on, okay?”

 

They’d parked directly next to the building so Clark jogged back into the gift shop. Surely there had to be some sort of gardening glove or something. He had a feeling Lex wasn’t going to wait up for him either way.

 

The cashier grandma stopped Clark, though, looking at him through narrowed eyes.

“What do you and your friend out there really need with all those things you bought?” she asked.

“Uh, we’re fixing my truck.” Clark knew the truth was a bit unbelievable. And she didn’t look like she bought it.

 She squinted her eyes at him until she was staring at him through slits and leaned forward over the counter.

“You better not be making a _bomb_ out there.”

Clark wasn’t sure how to break it to her how unlikely it was that two teenagers would choose a Cracker Barrel as their resource for bomb materials at 4 p.m. on a Friday in the middle of Kansas.

 She held up the check that Lex had written her.

 “And is this really going to go through?”

“Uh, yeah.” Clark said but he wasn’t paying attention anymore. He could smell smoke. She probably couldn’t. But he could. “Sorry, I’ll be right back…”

 

Lex was hard at work- he’d fashioned a makeshift soldering iron out of a lighter and the copper wire from the A/C unit. He had both hands in the engine and a look of deep concentration on his face.

 He was completely ignoring the fact that less than five feet away from him, the side of the building was on fire.

 

“Oh my god” Clark muttered.

 Lex didn’t respond.

“Oh my god!?” Clark repeated.

 “Shut up.” Lex said without looking up.

 “Lex-“ Clark still couldn’t look away from the climbing wall of flame that was starting to engulf the entire side of the building. “Please tell me you didn’t start this on purpose.”

Lex sniffed haughtily. “No.”

He clearly wasn’t making any attempts to stop it, though, and was continuing with his work, casual as could be and totally unfazed by the increasingly intimidating tower of flames.

 

“Okay- uh- geez-“ Clark took off his jacket and began trying to stifle the flames but it was already beyond the point where he could do much- at least not with Lex looking. If he could get alone without witnesses, he could blow it out easily…. “Lex? Lex! I’m going to try to put this out but you have to go inside and get everyone to evacuate.”

Lex still refused to look up. “I’m busy.”

Clark made an exasperated noise and dropped his jacket, running over to Lex and grabbing both narrow shoulders and shaking him gently. “Lex! There are innocent people in there!”

 

That dangerous fury flashed across Lex’s face. The one that usually preceded a violent outburst of some sort. But Clark knew Lex well enough to know that he was just annoyed because he hated when his thought process was interrupted. That once he’d set his mind to fixing something, creating something, he couldn’t be interrupted at any cost. But there wasn’t any time for that. Clark put one hand on each of Lex’s shoulders and looked him directly in the eye.

 

“The engine will still be there when you get back. But you have to go help people get out now.” he gave his shoulders a light squeeze.

 

Lex ground his teeth, eyes flicking back and forth between the one hand he still had in the engine and the flaming building, as if his genius brain was really struggling and stalling to decide which was the priority- fixing the engine or avoiding getting lit on fire. Finally, he nodded curtly at Clark and brushed off his grip, sprinting into the Cracker Barrel. Clark heard him distantly yelling at the customers inside the restaurant (“Alright everyone drop the chicken and dumplings and run if you want to live, rednecks!”).

 

Clark sighed and turned back to the fire, which was getting higher, starting to catch on the roof. He could guess that it started from a spark from Lex’s engine work catching on one of the wicker baskets, spreading to the dry wood rocking chair, and up the porch beams. He gave one quick look around to make sure there were no witnesses and then took a deep breath and began blowing. At first it seemed to work, a lot of the flames extinguished with the first gusts of super breath. But then the higher flames, near the roof, seemed to only grow from the added oxygen.

 

“Aw geez…” Clark muttered, running one hand through his hair. He hadn’t had much experience with putting out fires. There had been one at a neighbour’s barn he’d helped with but he’d had water then. He wasn’t sure where to find any type of hose at the Cracker Barrel and there was no lake or creek for miles.

 

To make matters worse the cashier from the gift shop had come out the door and was staring at Clark with a dropped jaw. She raised one hand shakily to point at him.

“I knew it! You hoodlums! I’m calling the police!”

Clark winced. The customers from the restaurant were also starting to pour outside, led by Lex who actually seemed to be having a good time ordering everyone around.

 

He couldn’t do anything with everyone watching, they were already looking at him and Lex suspiciously.

Lex sprinted over to Clark’s side (Clark mentally noted it because he rarely saw Lex look out of breath). “I thought you said you were going to put out the fire!”

“Easier said than done I guess”

“It looks like you just spread it to the roof. Good job, farm boy.”

“Hey- who’s the one who started it in the first place?!” Clark snapped back.

Lex grabbed Clark by the hand, wrapping long fingers tightly around Clark’s wide palm and yanking him forward. “C’mon” he led him back into the building, kicking the door open.

“I don’t think we should be in- holy cow!” Clark yelped as a piece of the roof fell in, a shower of sparks flying toward them.

He immediately pulled Lex to his chest, covering his head with his shoulder from the fire. It only took a few seconds before Lex began attempting to squirm free. Clark noticed that their hands were still entwined, tighter than ever. This was an emergency situation. ‘Stop thinking about his hands, idiot’ Clark reminded himself hotly. Lex at least wasn’t distracted. He continued stalking through the building, pulling Clark behind him even as he nearly tripped trying to keep up with his pace.

 

He’d led them to the kitchen and let go of Clark’s hand to start fishing around through the cabinets frantically, throwing things on the floor and out of his way.

 

“What are we looking for?” Clark asked, ducking to avoid a plate that Lex threw over his shoulder.

“Get any plastic bottles you see and empty them out”

Clark found some litre soda ones and began pouring them out into the sink. Meanwhile Lex made a triumphant exclamation upon finding Baking Soda in a cabinet.

 He bumped shoulders with Clark to get to the plastic bottles and began pouring vinegar into them, then water from the sink.

“Get me some paper towels” he delegated.

“What is this anyway?”

“A fire extinguisher. These idiots don’t have one in the restaurant so this will have to make do. Once we add the baking soda, it causes a chemical reaction-“

“In the vinegar!” Clark finished. “Carbon dioxide.”

Lex smirked. “Someone’s been paying attention in chemistry class.”

 

They loaded up the bottles in their arms and ran back outside. The customers were huddled on the other side of the parking lot, it seemed everyone had gotten out safe. But the roof was still aflame.

Clark and Lex just stood staring up at it, heat radiating onto their faces for a moment.

“You sure you don’t want to just let it burn?” Lex asked hopefully. 

Clark gave him a sidelong look. “I can get up on the roof if you give me a leg up. Then throw the bottles up to me.”

 

Leg knelt down on one knee and knit his fingers together to provide a base for Clark to put his foot on and then pushed him up. Clark nearly lost his balance and gripped the top of his head for a second which Lex griped about but once he got hold of the edge of the roof he was able to easily pull himself up.

 

He reached back down and Lex handed him the box of baking soda. Their fingertips brushed as he passed it to him.

“Be careful up there” Lex said looking up at him seriously, flames casting color on his pale green eyes. 

“You worried about me?” Clark asked, trying and failing to emphasize the sarcasm and downplay the hopeful note in his voice.

Lex smirked. “Of course not. Isn't a farm boy's toughness his selling point?” he tossed the first bottle up.

 

Clark made quick work of shaking up the bottles and then letting them explode into white foam over the flames, dousing most of the fire instantly. In no time the roof was clear and Clark could even hear some of the Cracker Barrel customers giving a few cheers.

 

Lex was waiting on the ground, holding his hands up to catch Clark as he slid carefully off the roof, feet first and eased himself down into Lex’s arms. They both smelled overpoweringly of smoke… with a hint of vinegar. When Clark’s feet touched the ground Lex was still holding him, one arm splayed against his back. He was looking him up and down with… pride? A sort of self satisfied smugness on his face that made Clark’s whole head feel hot with a blush. Then he raised his hand to Clark’s cheek and brushed his fingertips along it, trailing down across his jaw, even ghosting against his neck before he drew away.

 

“W-what was that…?” Clark mumbled numbly, feeling like his chest was ringing and vibrating with the force of an alarm clock.

“You’re covered in ashes.”

“Oh.” Clark said, wincing at the evident disappointment he heard in his own voice. He swiped the back of his arm across his face several times. “Better?”

Lex scoffed. “Not really.”

 Clark was overly aware that he was still nearly chest to chest with Lex and that one arm was still around his waist. Clark hesitantly raised his hand to Lex’s face, brushing his thumb across his lower lip.

“You have some ash on you too…” he lied.

 Lex smirked and took a step forward, until they really were pressed against eachother, and moved the hand that was on Clark’s back up, pulling him closer-

 

“That’s them! They’re the arsonists! They were trying to build a bomb!” the old cashier was leading an angry mob of Cracker Barrel regulars and pointing at them with a type of giddy self righteousness, squawking at a volume and frequency that was piercing, “I called the police!”

 

Clark said “Oh, geez…” at the same time that Lex said “shit” and they looked at each other with resigned disappointment. Whatever it was that had been about to happen, would have to wait if they wanted to avoid a night spent in a Kansas prison arguing over if their allotted phone call should go to Jonathan, Lionel, or Lex’s lawyer.

 

Lex’s hand ghosted up the side of Clark’s thigh, and took the car keys from his pocket. 

Clark untangled from Lex’s arms and put his hands up at the crowd in a mollifying gesture of peace. Lex slipped away behind him, sneaking back to the truck.

“Uh, I think there’s been a bit of a misunderstanding.” Clark started. 

“You burned down half the building!”

“…So, a big misunderstanding…” Clark amended, buying for time. Luckily, he didn’t have to stall more as in a cloud of dust and the sound of revving engine, the truck screeched next to Clark, the passenger door swinging open.

 “Get in!” Lex shouted from behind the wheel.

Clark gave a final apologetic shrug to the angry mob. “We’re really sorry!” before throwing himself into the truck.

 

Lex slammed his foot on the gas before Clark even had a chance to sit up or close the door behind him. And then they were nearly tipping onto one set of wheels with the high speed swerve Lex pulled to get them back on the highway. Clark looked out the back window to see the Cracker Barrel mob shouting and shaking their fists at them, getting smaller as they got farther away.

 

“Wow” Clark said incredulously, shaking his head, “I can’t believe we almost burned down a Cracker Barrel…. Do you think we should go back tomorrow or something when they’re less mad? Help them rebuild?”

Lex made a noise of disapproval. “Of course not. Their insurance will cover it anyway.”

“Does insurance cover Smallville local delinquents showing up at your business and trying to burn it down?”

“I think that counts as an ‘act of God’ if anything does.”

“I’m pretty sure it was an act of YOU, Lex…”

Lex smirked. “We should do this every weekend.”


End file.
